


A Promise

by Stelmarya



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: But not too Soft, Canonical Character Death, I'll die mad about Luke's death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Soft Daemon Targaryen, The Dance of the Dragons | Aegon II Targaryen v. Rhaenyra Targaryen Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:09:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23143867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stelmarya/pseuds/Stelmarya
Summary: Daemon Targaryen finds out about his stepson's death at the hands of his nephew, and a promise is made. A son for a son; Lucerys will be avenged.
Relationships: Daemon Targaryen/Rhaenyra Targaryen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	A Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing you recognize belongs to me. All rights to G.R.R.M.

Daemon Targaryen is not someone who is surprised easily, and neither does he cry. He has lived and seen so many things, three wives and four children and so many battles; life cannot throw him anything new. And yet, when the maestre gives him the letter with a gloomy face and a solemn nod, he has a terrible premonition. And it is true.

Luke has died.

He doesn’t understand how it happened; his stepson was supposed to go in a mission much safer than Jace’s, he was supposed to just go to Storm’s End to talk with lord Baratheon and come back. What went wrong? He was even taking Arrax with him, his young dragon. Nothing was supposed to happen to him, but when Jace, mourning and irate, mentions that name, he understands it all.

Aemond Targaryen killed him. That freak, that fucking brat that has ruined their life, even from the beginning, not just his but also his wife’ and children’s. Neither him nor anyone else would forget that fateful day of the fight between Aemond and his three stepsons, when his hellish nephew had beaten Jace and broken Luke’s nose, and he had in turn taken his eye. _Well done_ , he had thought back then, without caring that Aemond was his nephew, his brother’s son. Who did he think he was, claiming Vhagar as if he was worthy enough, hurting the throne’s heirs? Queen Alicent even had the audacity to demand Lucerys’ eye as retribution. His Rhaenyra still fumes when someone mentions it.

But this, this is another thing entirely. They are no longer children protected by their elders, Viserys is no longer here to mediate between his bitch of a wife and Rhaenyra, and they all have had to become men too quickly. But Luke, gods, he only reached his fourteenth nameday. He reads the letter again, stained by drops and handwriting rushed, illegible at times. Vhagar knocked them down, attacking them from behind, according to those present; his fucking bastard twat of a nephew had smashed Luke and Arrax as if it was nothing, and it said that his stepson’s body has already showed up on the beach under Storm’s End, along with his dragon’s head and neck.

Luke has died.

He stands up suddenly, crushing the letter in his left hand, rubbing his face with his right. This goes beyond breaking a training sword against his neck or breaking his nose. That brat had attacked Lucerys like a coward and lord Baratheon had done nothing. Cowards, all of them. Imbeciles, cowards, bastards, pieces of shit. _Gods_.

Rage rises in his throat and his vision turns blurry, face burning and teeth clenching. He realizes something wet is trailing down his cheeks, a few tears that catch him off guard. When is the last time he cried? He can’t remember, and he’s a bit ashamed of them, but Lucerys deserves them. Luke, his wife’s second son, brave and strong and a warrior to the end, falling alone and being crushed by his own dragon. If someone deserves to die like that is Aegon the Elder, or that trice damned Aemond. Those useless brats; his brother should have taught them where they belonged to since birth, no matter what that idiotic Alicent said. Rhaenyra comes first, her and Jace, Luke, Joff, Aegon, and even young Viserys. This is no longer rage; this is a scorching dragon fire that prompts him to look for a parchment and a pen, without exactly knowing what he is planning to write, but he _has_ to do something. Anything.

 _Mother is really bad, she collapsed as soon as they told her the news,_ Jace narrates in his letter, because Rhaenyra is apparently unable to leave her bedchambers, much less write. _Joff swears he will kill Aemond and Borros, although he is not quite sure how. He just knows, as I, Aegon and baby Viserys do, that we must get revenge for this. Luke deserves it. He has not been dead for a fortnight and I already miss him. Aemond must pay._

That is what gives him the idea. He starts to write a letter to his wife, telling her how hurt he is and how much he feels his stepson’s death, but that means nothing. To lose a child, even when it doesn’t share your blood, is almost like losing a part of yourself. Rhaenyra is not interested in fake words or apologies, and he doesn’t want to see a single excuse either. The idea is already a seed ingrained in his mind, remembering the incident and queen Alicent’s words as she saw his blinded son. He crumples the paper and uses a new one, writing plain words that he knows will cheer his family up more than anything else.

_An eye for an eye, a son for a son. Lucerys will be avenged._

His next letter is addressed to Mysaria. He does not care that they are his brother’s grandchildren, he does not care that Helaena will suffer his wife’s pain. He wants them to feel it, to bleed as he and his family are bleeding now. Luke is worth more than any of those freaks Aegon the Elder calls children, but they’ll have to be enough, for now.

 _Tell them to force that whore to choose_ , he writes with angry and long strokes, almost piercing the parchment. _Jaehaerys or Maelor, it does not matter. Just make sure one of them dies._

There is no remorse in his mind. What’s more, he’s being _merciful_. He could’ve told her to kill them all, Jaehaerys ‘Six Fingers’, the feeble-minded Jaehaera and that brat Maelor too, but no. This time he will be lenient, he is going to leave two of them alive so they can feel the pain his children are feeling now, after losing a brother. With that, Lucerys’ death will be avenged, or at least partly. Aemond is still dancing with his empty socket, surely boasting about killing a fourteen-year-old boy that had swore to the gods not to fight.

 _He will be mine_ , he thinks, signing the messages and stretching his stiff hands. He already feels better; he has stopped crying and Luke’s memory is stronger than ever in his mind. He was an obstacle to the throne, higher in the line of succession than his own blood children, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t fond of the lad, with his strong build, pug nose and soft laugh, putting young Viserys on his shoulders and letting Baela and Rhaena mess up his hair each time they met him. _You’re going to regret ever touching Luke, dear nephew. Your empty socket will be the prettiest thing left in your body._

And that is a promise.


End file.
